


The path towards Healing...

by TheUsagi1995



Series: Stories for Season/Series 12 of SPN [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Dean, Caring Dean, Emotional, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e09 First Blood, Sam's Cage memories, Season/Series 12, Season/Series 12 Spoilers, Wincest - Freeform, Worried Dean, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:12:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10298288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUsagi1995/pseuds/TheUsagi1995
Summary: The last coda to 12x09 “First Blood” Sam and Dean return to the bunker, after Billie is killed and all Dean wants, is to shower and sleep.The thing is, Sam isn't doing so well and he hasn't been doing well, for a long time now. All the time they spend apart, locked up in those cells has taken its toll on them both.But it has affected Sam in more ways than one could possibly imagine, and Dean has to act fast, if he wants to have a chance to get his brother back...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> A//N!! Hello to you all! So, here is my last coda to 12x09 “First Blood”. This is the fourth and final story, which was a challenge between me and Fenix21. We thought (actually, she thought of it, and I can't thank her enough for this chance!!) that we should try and write a story based on the same idea, and see what the result would be, what the differences and similarities would be. So, here is my version of the story! 
> 
>  
> 
> Special thanks, to my awesome beta reader Geekyfangirl131, for checking the story out. She is great and I can't thank her enough for all the help she has offered me!!
> 
> I know I am so very late with this piece, but please forgive me, I have had a tough couple of weeks and my lessons at uni take so much of my time... 
> 
> On the top of all that, I have been sick for a few days now. I have a bad fever and I'm freaking cold all the time. 
> 
> So, I've said enough, off we go!!  
> Hope that you will all enjoy it!!  
> A//N!!

Dean had never been happier to see the underground bunker than he had been that night, when they had finally returned there, after Cas had killed Billie the Reaper. Yes, he had killed, freaking killed, that scary, crazy death machine, as Dean used to call her. Not that Dean was complaining about that, only he was. 

 

 

He was, because those 'cosmic consequences' usually meant serious trouble. But then again... Cas had saved them, and for that, Dean was more than grateful. And deep down, Dean knew he wasn't mad at his best friend for saving them, how could he be mad? He was worried however, worried about the price they would have to pay for what he had done. But as soon as they had reached the bunker, Dean decided he could be worried about the meaning of what Billie had said, tomorrow. Because he couldn't bring himself to do that at that moment.

 

At that moment, the only thing he wanted, was to go take a shower, let the water run down his body until there was no more hot water to waste. Casting a glimpse at Sam, who was standing next to him in the bunker's main room, the green eyed man could see that his brother was thinking the exact same thing. Dean was ready to look at his mother, who was talking about going out to get food, but something in the way Sam was holding himself up, caught his attention. 

 

 

His big brother instinct kicked in, in less than a blink of an eye, as his green eyes took in, the shape of his younger sibling. Sam was visibly tired, way too tired, but there was more to it, of that, Dean was sure. Sam had lost weight and he could barely hold himself upright. The green eyed hunter bit his lip, for he could now understand that Sam had given up all hope, while locked up in that cell. God only knew how long it had been since Sam had actually eaten the food they had been given. 

 

 

Truth be told, the food was barely eatable, and Dean knew, that even though he could make himself think it was tasty enough so as to eat it, there was no way Sam would have done the same. Dean had seen that before, many years ago, when they had deliberately been thrown in prison so as to help one of their dad's old friends with a ghost. Back then, Sam had given Dean his food, saying that he didn't want to eat. But back then, they had stayed in there for two days, not two months... 

 

 

And then, there was one more thing which caught Dean's attention. The way Sam seemed to be unable to stay still. His eyes flicked all around the bunker's main room, and his right hand was twitching, as though electricity was shot through it. Dean sighed silently and got ready to speak, but was interrupted by his mother. “So, is there anything in particular you would like for dinner?” She said, in an attempt to ease the tension in the room. 

 

 

Before anyone could utter a word however, Sam stepped in and said he would take a shower and then go straight to bed. With those words, the younger man turned around and walked out of the main room, leaving everyone else behind. Mary took a step forwards, but Dean rested his hand on her wrist. “Don't. I'll go check on him.” He muttered, voice low for it was coming from the depths of his throat. “You should go get some rest mom, I won't eat right now either.” Dean declared, while momentarily turning his gaze on the angel who was standing nearby. “You too Cas.” Dean said after a short pause. 

 

“But Dean...” “Don't worry mom, we'll eat tomorrow, I promise okay?” He said and turned around to head towards one of the many bathrooms the bunker had. The thought of showering together with Sam crossed his mind, but Dean knew that he couldn't do that, not while his mother was there as well. His heart however, was pounding loudly in his ears, and a lump was forming in his throat, making it hard to swallow, to speak, to breathe... 

 

 

The green eyed man let his forehead rest on the bathroom's door for a split second, and then exhaled loudly, turning around, following the steps he himself had taken, this time to the opposite direction. He knew what he was doing was risky, but he couldn't care less about it, not right then. His instinct was screaming at him, screaming that Sam needed him, and in all his years, Dean had never ignored it. He wasn't going to start now. 

 

 

He walked down the corridors quietly, with steps light and steady, just like John had taught him to, and he blew out a long, silent sigh, when he walked behind his mother and Cas unnoticed and unheard. Reaching the other side of the labyrinthine bunker fast, Dean had no difficulty finding in which bathroom his brother had fled. Stretching his hand, the older Winchester took a hold of the door handle and tried opening the door, only to find it locked from the inside. 

 

 

“That can't be good...” Dean muttered to himself and focused on his hearing, but all he could make out was the purling of water. The hunter considered calling out to his brother, but rejected the idea as fast as he had thought of it, knowing that any sound would alert Mary and Cas. Sighing wearily, Dean looked around, smiling slightly when his eyes fell on a paper-clip which was lying on the floor, a few feet away. With steady hands, the green eyed hunter unlocked the door and stepped inside the small bathroom, gasping loudly as he did so.

 

“Jesus, Sam!” Dean said, as he stepped in the bathroom, which was hotter than a sauna. The older man moved fast and opened the curtain of the bathtub, only to be met with a heartbreaking sight. Sam, who was still wearing all of his clothes, save his shoes, was curled on the corner of the tub, back on the tiles, his knees drown all the way up, so that he could hug them with his hands and bury his face in them. 

 

The green eyed hunter swore under his breath as he kicked off his shoes and entered the bathtub in three swift, elegant moves. “Sam...” Dean muttered as he hovered over the hunched figure of his brother, while turning the water switch to the right, in an attempt to prevent Sam from getting second degree burns. “No, don't!” Sam then said, his voice almost unrecognizable, deep and harsh, broken and sad. “Sammy, you're going to burn yourself, seriously, the water is way too hot.” Dean replied, flinching as he spoke. Was his shiver caused by the way too hot water running down his body, or by the sound of Sam's peculiar voice, the hunter couldn't tell for sure.

 

“Get out, leave...” The younger man muttered through clenched teeth, but Dean knew better than to comply to this request. “No Sam, I'm not leaving you.” The other hunter replied at once, getting Sam's pale face in his hands. “He was there, with me... Every minute, of every fucking day... He was whispering to me...” Sam uttered, voice distant, with no emotion in it. “And it was so cold Dean... I was freezing, I...” But Sam's fragile voice fainted and Dean let out a breathy sigh, filled with bitterness. Lifting his glassy green eyes so as to meet Sam's, Dean remembered what Lucifer had once told them. 'Most people think I burn hot... It's actually quite the opposite.' Blinking, Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and managed to speak.

 

 

“Do you... Are you seeing him right now?” The older man questioned, in a quivering voice. Sam didn't answer, but darted his head around the room instead, only to wave it in refusal a few moments later. “Okay, that's good Sammy, that's good, baby boy.” The green eyed hunter encouraged, lips forming a weak smile. “You know I'm... That I'm me, right Sammy?” Dean dared to ask, fearing the answer, but fearing the silence even more. “Yes...” The younger Winchester muttered and Dean couldn't stop himself from letting out a small laugh. 

 

 

 

“That's why I need you to get out... I don't want you to-” “Sammy, no, listen to me-” “I'm not five anymore Dean, I can take a freaking shower and besides, you haven't even taken one yourself.” The younger Winchester said, trying to sound persuasive, but ended up sounding anything but. “This isn't why you want me to go away.” Dean replied calmly, using every bit of self control he had, so as to do so. At the sound of those words, Sam lowered his head in shame. 

 

 

“How long Sam? How long has it been, since you last ate the food they were giving us?” “It wasn't food Dean, it wasn't even good enough to feed the dogs, let alone us.” Sam answered back, knowing he was just delaying the inevitable. “Just get out, please...” The younger man pleaded, not bearing to look at his brother. Sighing wearily once more, Dean spoke again, filling his voice with love, pushing aside everything else. Because right now, nothing else mattered, just Sam. Only Sam. “Let me-” “No, no no, just go, get out.” “Sammy... Let me look baby boy, you've got to let me look at you.” Dean uttered, his voice trembling dangerously. But all Sam did, was wave his head in refusal. 

 

 

“When have you ever been ashamed of me?” Dean asked after a few moments of utter silence. At the sound of those words, Sam bit his lip hard, shutting his eyes. “I'm tired...” “I know Sammy-” “I'm tired of being nothing but a broken shell of what I used to be Dean... I'm tired of being someone you have to-” “Someone I have to take care of? Someone I have to help? Someone I want to love? Someone I want to die for?” Dean said, cutting Sam off. His voice was raw, but truthful. 

 

 

“Well, I'm not tired, I'll never get tired of doing all those things. Because I'm doing them, for you.” Dean continued, making Sam meet his eyes. “Dean...” “Let me help Sammy... Let me in, baby boy.” Dean almost pleaded and Sam sighed, swallowing hard, while slightly nodding his head in approval. Dean then nodded his head as well, laying a kiss on Sam's wet forehead before getting up and out of the tub. 

 

 

“Stay here, I'll be right back okay?” Dean instructed and Sam saw through blurred eyes, as his brother got his clothes off, save his underwear and then grabbed a small stool which they always kept in every bathroom. Dean re-entered the tub and helped Sam get up on his feet without cracking his head open in the process and then sit down on the stool, his back leaning on the tiles yet again. “Good, now, how about getting those shitty clothes off of you?” Dean asked, half chuckling, but Sam stopped him from removing his shirt. Meeting emerald orbs, Sam stared beseechingly at his brother, but all Dean did, was to cup each side of Sam's face.

 

 

“Sammy... I could never-” “I know you could never be... Ashamed of me... And that's worst than being ashamed, or mad at me... Your silence is worst... Because I just wanted to die Dean... I had given up, I had let memories of Lucifer take over me, I just... I gave up, I failed you...” Sam uttered as he tried not to break down. Dean's eyes flew open then, and his heart dropped to his feet, but the older man kept himself under control. “No, no baby boy, no Sam, you didn't fail me, Sam, look at me, look at me Sammy...” Dean said as he tried to hold his brother's gaze fixed on him. 

 

 

 

“You didn't fail me, do you understand that?” “No... No Dean, I don't understand it, I don't understand how you can say these words...” Dean waved his head in refusal then, but spoke again. “I utter them because they are the truth, Sam...” Dean said, letting his hand, which Sam was still holding by the wrist, rest over the younger man's heart. “You are the strongest man I know Sam... All things you've done for this world, they are good things, and yes, they have left you vulnerable, but that's why I'm here, right? To watch out for you, to take care of you. Because that's who I am, who I want to be, who I've always wanted to be.” Dean declared, voice filled with honesty.

 

Sam could only look at his brother as the other man spoke, and let his words surround him, become a shield, which could protect him from Lucifer's voice and from the memories of his time in the Cage. He surrendered to those words, which could protect him from his own insecurity and fear that Dean would be ashamed of him. And as Sam let his eyes flutter close, his grip on Dean's wrist loosened, allowing the older man to move his hand and remove the clothes Sam was still wearing. Sam's hand moved, from Dean's wrist to his own eyes, covering them, so that they wouldn't behold Dean's facial expression when all the clothes would be gone.

 

 

Dean saw what his brother did, but chose to stay silent and focus in the task at hand. The upper part of the uniform they had been wearing for all those hellish days was the first piece of clothing to be taken off, and Sam bit his lip while pressing his palm on his closed eyes even harder, when he felt the hot water touching his skin. Dean swallowed, eyes flying open, breath hitching in his throat. He could count Sam's ribs, one by one, and it seemed as though the bones of his sternum could cut the skin as Sam's breath quickened. God, the sight was making Dean want to vomit, because this was Sam, his beloved Sammy...

 

Lifting his eyes on Sam's throat, Dean saw the veins popping out, blue streams spreading across the length of that fine neck, going downwards... Dean wanted to say something, but didn't know what, so he just stayed silent as he reached for the shampoo he knew his brother liked. Only when he stepped closer, did his emerald eyes caught the markings on the inner part of Sam's right forearm. 

 

 

Gasping, Dean let his hands ghost over Sam's right hand. “Oh, Sammy...” 'Why did you cut yourself? How many are the cuts? What can I do?' Dean wanted to ask all those questions at the same time, but he knew he didn't have to, for he already knew the answers. Running his fingers over the cuts, Dean felt Sam shaking underneath him. Dean's green eyes blurred and he could feel his soul aching, as though Alister was carving the exact same number of cuts on it. 

 

 

More than forty-five they were, and the older man knew the reason why his brother had needed the pain... Knowing the reason which led Sam to hurt himself however, made Dean feel no better, on the contrary, it made him feel a lot worse. “The pain would keep Lucifer's voice away, at first...” Sam uttered and Dean lifted himself up a little, so as to touch Sam's forehead with his free palm. “We'll see that those are cleaned up, alright?” The older man answered, voice low, as if it was but a caress. The green eyed hunter then moved, but Sam stopped him. 

 

 

“Kiss... Kiss me.” He ever so slowly uttered, as though he was afraid of his own voice. “Open your eyes first. Open them, and then close them again if you want, I don't mind.” Dean said and then waited, until finally, Sam did as he was told. God, the fear those eyes were holding in them... “That's better, isn't it?” The older man asked, careful to maintain his voice even and his face stoic, but caring. Leaning forwards, Dean let his lips touch Sam's, all while his fingers were brushing over the cuts on Sam's inner forearm. 

 

 

God, it felt so good, and both brothers lost themselves in the kiss. Or to be more accurate, Dean lost himself in Sam's kiss, and Sam, found the faith and the love he needed in it. As they parted, both men looked more alive and more like themselves. “Want me to keep going?” Dean asked, lips forming a weak smile. “I... If you want to... I mean... Yeah, keep going.” Sam finally uttered, resting his head on the tiles. 

 

 

The older man smiled even wider and nodded his head in agreement. His hands were careful and gentle, for he had the feeling that Sam would break, were Dean to touch him applying just a little more pressure. The lower part of the uniform was taken off as well, and Dean made sure to toss them both out of the tub and onto the floor, as far away from Sam as possible. 

 

Then, the green eyed man washed Sam's body, drawing his attention to Sam's long hair, through which he ran his fingers, letting them curl around brown locks, humming low in his throat at the feeling. He massaged Sam's scalp, slowly and tenderly, receiving low moans of pleasure in return. When all the shampoo was washed away from Sam's hair, Dean turned around, but found himself stopped by big, warm palms, which were resting on his lower back. Sam, slowly and with trembling hands, started washing Dean's back, letting himself caress the skin, letting himself feel the pulsing veins underneath his fingers. 

 

Dean let his green eyes flutter close then, and moved closer to his brother, knowing that Sam was not able to stand upright at that moment. But he felt his gut twitching at the feeling of once strong, callused fingers on his back, for now they were thin and Dean could feel every knuckle and every callus on the skin of his lower back. It was as though the bones of Sam's hands and palms were sharp, but fragile at the same time. And what was even worse than that, was the fact Dean could feel every scar Sam had, every single inch of healed skin, which was rougher and slightly stiffer than the rest of Sam's palm.

 

Dean clenched the fingers of his right hand into a fist, but remained silent as Sam kept washing his back, for his mind was somewhere else. He could remember where, when, and from what, or from whom, Sam had gotten each scar. He knew the origin of every callus and could imagine the gun or knife, which had shaped his brother's bones over time. But it was the first time those scars, those calluses and knuckles were all Dean could feel, as Sam was touching his back. Sighing bitterly, Dean turned his gaze on the mirror and caught a glimpse of his brother through the glass.

 

The sight was one the green eyed man had never seen before. Through the foam, Dean could make out the right side of Sam's face, and noticed how his jaw was looking sharper than before, how his cheekbones seemed to be larger than usual, even though they really weren't... He noticed the way Sam was biting the inside of his cheek and the way his jaw was locked in place, so that no words, moans, or sobs could escape Sam's thin lips. Dean blinked and turned around, so as to face his brother, who was aware Dean could see him through the glass. 

 

 

“I... I ate once every three days, or once every four days, depending on the shape I was in...” Dean heard Sam uttering and carefully lowered himself on his heels, so that to be at the same level as his shivering younger sibling. “Lucifer... He... He insisted I should just let myself go, that I should just die... But it was a slow death and I... I was afraid of it, I was afraid to go through it... I hated the feeling, but knew that it could result in some kind of liberation... And that was what I wanted...” Sam muttered and then he let Dean gather him in his arms. “Come here baby boy...” Dean whispered, locking his arms around Sam's shoulders. “I know you wanted to get out Sam...” Dean coaxed, voice gentle, but trembling. 

 

 

For a second, it felt weird to be so close to one another, but after a moment of tension, which was filled with silence, Dean muttered that he was real, that he wasn't a game Lucifer was playing, and Sam let himself melt in Dean's embrace. Dean felt Sam's shoulder blades on his own chest, could see his hipbones, long and thin, and as he let his eyes move downwards, he was met with the bullet wound, which Sam carried from when Toni had shot him, noticing that it looked larger and deeper than usual, due to the lack of muscle tissue underneath it. 

 

 

“It's... It's fine Dean... It'll be fine. I'll be fine.” Sam muttered, voice low, but relatively steady. “Yeah, baby boy, you'll be fine, I'll make sure of that. We will make this whole mess alright again.” Dean agreed, moving wet hair away from Sam's forehead with his palm. “And we'll start tomorrow, with me making you some soup, just like the one dad used to make, when we were kids.” The green eyed man said, helping his brother get up, so that they could wash away all the remaining shampoo. 

 

Sam stayed silent for a while, but then spoke, eyes brighter than before. “Soup?” “Yeah Sammy, soup, for we've got to take it slow, so baby steps, right brother?” Dean explained, eyeing Sam while he spoke. “Okay... Okay Dean.” He said, and the older man smiled, covering the small space between them yet again, connecting their lips for the second time, this time deepening the kiss, letting his tongue enter Sam's mouth... Both men were left gasping for air when they parted, and Dean found himself holding Sam upright, as a wave of dizziness hit the younger man. “Wow, easy, easy Sammy...” Dean coaxed, voice gentle, caring. 

 

 

Sam said nothing, just waved his head towards the door, and the green eyed hunter wrapped them both with clean, spare towels and then led the way towards his own room. “Um... we are in your room- “Yes, what did you think Sammy?” Dean said as he got dressed with more comfortable clothes and then helped Sam do the same. He brought the first aid kit forwards, and with the tenderest of touches, wrapped Sam's forearm with a gauze, after he was sure the cuts were all clean.

 

 

The younger man remained silent through it all, and just lay on the bed when Dean told him to, making room for him. The older man joined him, as soon as he was done with putting on some clothes and with tiding the towels they had used. Sam's hazel eyes didn't miss Dean's pained expression, as he realized that the was more space between them than usual, due to the fact that Sam had lost so much weight.

 

 

“I'm sorry, Dean I'm so sorry...” Sam uttered, as he tried to once again hide himself from his brother's eyes. “No, no Sam, there is no need for you to apologize, okay?” Dean said, making sure to have Sam's full attention. “All you need to do for me, is answer this... Do you know I could never be ashamed of you?” He asked, voice low, a mere whisper. “Yes...” Sam replied, shaking as he was trying to control his breathing. “Alright then. That's all I need Sammy.” Dean said, and Sam nodded, laying with his back on the mattress, while Dean hovered atop of him, his green eyes closed.

 

“I love you Sam... All of you.” Dean whispered in Sam's ear, making him shiver violently. “I know Dean... I know it... I love you too... So much...” Sam replied, bringing his brother even closer, feeling his breath, his heartbeat... Feeling him there... “There is soup tomorrow, don't forget it.” Dean said, after a while, and Sam could only smile. “Okay, but we are not doing the whole 'airplane with the spoon' thing!” He answered back. “Aren't we?” Dean questioned chuckling, as he brushed his lips over Sam's... “No... But, I'll eat the soup.” Sam uttered, and saw Dean's eyes shining.

 

It was a start, the first step, they were taking on the path of healing. The road wasn't easy, they both were aware of that. They knew for sure that they would trip and that they would fall down more often than not. But they would get up again, for they had each other. They were marching this path down together, and that meant a lot, a lot more than anyone could ever understand... 

 

 

And they would take many more steps down that road tomorrow, that was for sure. But not tonight. Tonight they would try to sleep, and maybe, just maybe, they would manage to, for they were finally together, as they were always meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it ends! Hope that you enjoyed!! Let me thank Fenix21 for yet another time, for this chance she has given me! You can read here her version of the story! http://archiveofourown.org/works/10099277
> 
> It really meant so much to me! You can leave a comment if you want, tell me if you enjoyed the story, or what was it that you didn't like! :)  
> Thank you all!!  
> So, until next time,  
> Love you all,  
> The Usagi1995


End file.
